


A Time to Forget

by theshymuffin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, a one shot that grew MUCH longer than originally planned, and klance, canon compliant (sorta) this is still an AU, feelings in space, for science, i've never liked writing flashbacks but i indulged this once, not v fluffy cuz i had a lot of feelings post s6, why does everything i write become a giant beanstalk?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 05:37:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17054180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshymuffin/pseuds/theshymuffin
Summary: Razor's Edge AU or: what if Keith sent a distress signal out of the Quantum Abyss? What if a certain paladin in blue came to his rescue?





	A Time to Forget

_I love you to the moon and beyond._

 

* * *

A Time to Forget

 

Gold and green dusted the sky, like copper set to flame. A gravitational wave scraped the underbelly of the shuttle, and Keith anchored his grip on the controls to keep them steady. Stars hung in a state of deterioration and worlds lay shattered like glass. The strange energy that bound the Quantum Abyss together flared and distorted the plain of sight. They rocketed past a planet, one side lush and green, the other a blur of waste, as if half were preserved in a pocket of time. Preserved for now, anyway.

“Stay on target,” Krolia called from the hold. “A false move and we could be trapped here for an eternity. Or blown to dust.”

Keith forced deep, even breathing, for what good it did him. His hands still shook as he wrestled with an unseen force for control of the ship. He felt a bit like that. This place. This ship. Fighting to stay on course. Surrounded by a galaxy crumbling apart.

He'd spent a lifetime wondering what mysterious fate took his mom from him, and she was here. Real. Breathing. For now. And how? When did she leave? Where did she go? And why?

So many questions. Each one was like a mounting pressure against his chest, that strained against his ribs. Ribs that just might crack if he couldn't _breathe_. But hey. They'd talk about it later, right?

White and steel caught in the corner of his vision. A skeletal drone hummed parallel port side. His hold on the wheel wavered and the body of the ship wiggled in the gravitational pull of shredding planets. An alarm triggered as several drones latched onto the exterior, the way talons sink into their prey.

“Krolia? We got trouble.” One struck the pressurized glass with enough force to crack the pressurized glass with its spine. “What are those things?”

“I don't know, but we need to shake them loose before they breach the hull.”

“Hang on.” Keith swung the ship into a hard acceleration. The burst of speed threw half the parasites off. One disappeared entirely, though it posed a new problem. It phased right through the engine exhaust, and if the shrill cry from the hold was an indication, it had gotten inside. A shot from Krolia's blaster rang out and the invader fell silent.

“Keith, what's our status?”

The drone still latched on the ship's front struck again and the entire ship shuddered. Its eye gleamed dull like a screen on low power. The sensor bore into the pilot as if to calculate how many ticks it would take to rip his limbs apart once it got through the windshield and dragged him into the vacuum of space.

“The shuttle's damaged. Thrusters are gone.” Keith's eyes widened at the swirl of space time drawing dangerously close. “We're being pulled in!”

Logic screamed louder than the alarms. _You won't make it. If the drones don't succeed, the abyss will rip every fibre of your soul through time and back again._ Red lights flared in the cockpit, and every instrument flickered in a panic.

“Keith, we have to ditch.” The back of the ship flew open, shredding the vacuum and oxygen of the entire ship as Krolia leapt into the stars.

With measured breath, and steadier hands, Keith flicked on the ship's long range communication channel. There was hardly time to wonder if the message could carry beyond the magnetic waves of the abyss, but a desperate sort of hope spurred him, whispered to pay the price of precious moments to send a distress signal to the Castle of Lions. The mamorite slammed a hand against the eject button and everything turned to a blur, stars too bright, air too thin. He watched, helpless and floating as their shuttle lapsed to nothingness in a cavity of distorted time.

+

Code in a garble of Altean script rolled by on the holoscreen. Lance didn't pay it much mind. All he had to do was sit at the desk and hit enter when told. Honestly? Any of the mice could have done his job.

Stormy eyes glazed and he scraped the sole of his shoe on the desk leg, feeling more and more useless with each passing tick. The red paladin's felt expendable for a while, but he'd given voice to a silent fear rooted deep inside. He was the ultimate third wheel. Lotor and Allura had their impeccable white hair and sparkly alchemy, Hunk and Pidge had their geek toys and science gobbledegook, and Coran never parted from his beloved mustache.

“It's amazing how the galran routines translate almost one to one with the Altean axium inhibitors,” Pidge said.

“Okay, Lance.” Hunk offered a thumbs up. “Let's test this puppy.”

Lance supposed he'd been kidding himself. To think a Princess and a guy like _him_ would have a shot in a million.

Behind his shoulder, Hunk shot Pidge a little wink wink, nudge nudge. “Looks like lover boy Lance is a little distracted _not_ thinking about the Princess.”

Maybe if Lance painted his skin violet and grew fangs he'd have a better chance? Maybe ruling an Empire and the better part of the galaxies would improve his odds. Maybe being a wizard was the only answer.

Pidge, like the gremlin she was, flicked a spare inhibitor at the back of Lance's head.

 _That_ woke him up. “OW. What the heck man?”

Hunk curled his hands together, dainty as hands as big and strong as his could be, and bat his eyelashes. “Oh, _Lonce._ Would you cease your daydreams of me and test the connection?”

Blue eyes refocused on the program that spun in front of him. “Ha. Ha. Not funny. And I'm not daydreaming about you–” A growl escaped him, as he realized his mistake. They would _never_ let this die. “I mean _her.”_

“ _Paladins!”_ Coran popped up in a feed on the holoscreen. _“The Castle's picked up a distress beacon.”_

Lance emptied his lungs with a sigh, relieved to be free (for now) from his friends' merciless teasing. “We're listening, Coran. Do you know who it is?”

“ _Well, we can never be sure with this sort of thing. Pirates or Haggar's agents could have found out our frequency and set a trap like a den of Ōkami ducks.”_ He hesitated. _“But if they're who they say they are. . . the signal is from Keith.”_

“Keith?” Pidge's eyes turned round behind her spectacles. “He hasn't made contact in months.”

Ice twisted in Lance's gut. “He's in trouble.”

“ _Stranded, actually.”_

“Where is he?” Hunk asked, all nerves. “We've gotta go get him.”

“ _It may not be that easy. The signal came from the Quantum Abyss.”_

Lance got to his feet, jaw set. “It doesn't matter where he is. Give me a wormhole, and I'll be there.”

“ _I'll have to run it by Shiro or Allura first. And they're both out with Lotor on a conciliatory assignment.”_

“That could be too late, Coran.”

Pidge shrunk in on herself. “Lance, don't–”

But he was already halfway out the hangar door. “You guys should stay with the castle.”

Hunk's mouth hung open. “What are we supposed to tell Shiro and Allura when they get back, huh? You're just gonna leave us to face them alone?”

“Don't worry. No one will even notice I'm gone.”

+

Keith now knew what it was like to have the breath of the universe fill his lungs until there was nothing left of himself. It was then that the visions came. Whether he wanted to see them or not played no part in the equation, though there did seem to be a sense of direction behind it all, even if it wasn't a form of divinity.

The latest pulse faded, as did the cavern with all its carvings. The place where the Blue Lion dwelled for centuries before Keith tracked it down or Lance brought the place to life with the lion's essence. A sensation like his soul flooding back into himself left him gasping for air, for a sliver of oxygen.

He did a quick inventory, as if he had to put effort into finding his emotional reaction to this dump of information. His next words broke the silent vacuum that surrounded them. “You were stuck on Earth.”

Krolia had remained stoic through it all. Until now. “There was no better place I could be.” Now she looked on her son with all the fondness of a mother who had been there alongside Keith to see him toddle on two feet for the first time. That witnessed him learning to fly, or saw him receive his acceptance letter into the Garrison.

The pair continued to hop their way through the seams of space time. Toward the light, closer to the dark spiral that Krolia called a gravity well. The fuel in their jet packs began to wane. Hours passed before they spotted it. When they did, Keith's heart nearly swelled right out of his chest.

This time, it was Krolia's turn to sound awed. “It's. . . that's a lion.”

Keith looked straight up into the candle like glow of the Red Lion's eyes, and a smile curved behind his mask. “Lance.”

The lion arced toward them with the wave of twisted gravity. Its silver and red body blurred and stretched to an unnatural length. All at once it snapped forward like a slinky to the space above them, where it filled the sky, and blotted out the starlight and asteroids rolling by.

It's mammoth jaw dropped and a paladin in blue shot down the ramp shouting. “What are you doing just standing there? Get inside!”

Energy poured from the gravity well with a clap bigger than thunder, and sparked against metallic dust of former asteroids. It expanded like a ripple through the surface of still water. The pulse picked up speed as it drew nearer, and in the blinding flare Keith only made out a lanky silhouette as the paladin hurdled toward him.

“ _We have to get inside Red.”_ Even the sound of his voice warped, though his panic was still clear as Balmera crystal.

“It's okay,” Keith yelled.

His words were lost in the overriding surge that enveloped them. Time seemed to slow. The light, for all its force of a hurricane, stilled. In the span of a mere moment, Lance's hand curled around Keith's wrist, and the wave crashed down over them.

+

White sun and sand clouded the space beyond the weathered porch. Wind chimes knocked in a soothing song as the salt breeze picked up. Lance let go of the handle to the screen door, and it swung shut behind him. He drifted closer to the woman that swayed softly along with the creak of her wicker rocking chair.

Snowy hair, still long and soft at her shoulder, curled with the wind, and a smile softened the wrinkles of her sun kissed face. “Ah. Mi piloto. You've come to tell me a final adiós?”

Lance stilled pinned to the spot. _How?_ He remembered this moment. Of the day he left his family to chase dreams of the Galaxy Garrison _six years ago_. How was this possible? His looked up to take in rafters and palm branches where the Red Lion was only moments before. The asteroid he'd been standing on gave way to wood boards dusted with stray sand.

More concerning than all that? Keith was gone. Lance's hand closed around nothing but ocean air.

“It's not a last goodbye, Abuela,” he found himself saying. While he was conscious, he wasn't entirely controlling his actions, as if all this were a dream. “I'm not going away forever.”

The woman, as familiar as the sun stretching over Earth's horizon, seemed foreign all the same. How long had it been since he saw her? Got to be with her this way? Something lodged in Lance's throat. He'd cried nights remembering her, fearing if he ever found his way home, he'd discover his Abuela had slipped away, like a wave called back to the sea.

She stilled her rocking and stretched a hand out to him, which he took with a hunger. The touch of sun warmed skin calmed him. Even if this place, this moment hadn't been real to him until seconds ago, somehow he understood she'd been sitting here for hours. Simply drinking in the view from her back porch.

“I know you too well, child. Someday you will fly into the stars and never come down.”

He pressed a kiss to the freckles on the back of her hand. “No, Abuela. I swear I'll always come back.”

Hazel eyes took him in. Eyes layered with mischief as untamable as the sea, knowing beyond his years, and a sadness too deep for words. He couldn't help but wonder if somehow she'd known. How could she? Yet there it was. An unmistakable understanding.

“Te amo hasta la luna y más allá, Lance.”

Before he could open his mouth to explain that she was wrong, that he'd fly to the stars, that he'd see a better half of the universe and still come home, because he _would_ come home, the wind picked up. The chimes blew sideways and the sun grew to such an intensity, he had to shut his eyes to the glare. He cried out into the nothingness that surrounded him but it echoed back strangely.

“ _Te amo.”_

Wind rushed into his lungs and he blinked his eyes open to meet the amaranth glow of Keith's mamora mask. His fingers dug into his friend's wrist, chasing the ghost of Abuela's touch. “What. . . what just happened? What the heck was that?”

“It's okay.” Keith lay a hand on the pauldron of Lance's armor. “None of it was real.”

Lance smacked his arm away. “Yes it was!”

“It was a memory.”

“Wait.” A frown tugged at his face. “You mean you saw it too?”

“I. I didn't mean to.” Keith squirmed from the paladin's grasp. “It wasn't my fault, y-you grabbed my hand–”

Lance peered over Keith's shoulder, having forgotten until now that they weren't alone. Behind the visor of his helmet, blue eyes bugged, and he jabbed a finger out to point. “What are you doing with a Galra general!? And why is she frozen?”

Keith turned to look. A field of reflective light circled her like some sort of bubble. He reached out a hand, only for his fingertips to catch in it, like surface tension. “Krolia?” There was something soft in his voice that raised more questions. Obviously the woman was more than just another general to him. Keith pulled away from the bubble and it stretched, like gum to a shoe before bouncing back. “Looks like she's trapped in a time pocket.”

If Hunk were here he'd probably crack some joke about pizza pockets or space burritos, but Lance pressed forward. Now was not the time to fill the role of comedy relief. “Will she be alright?”

“We just need to get away from that gravity well. You think we can use Red's cable to bring her inside? If either of us touches her, we could get sucked in too.”

“On it.” The thrusters on Lance's jetpack gave a little spurt, enough to propel toward his lion. He ducked into its mouth, hoping they could take off before another magic memory tidal wave hit. Something wet pricked at his eyes when he thought back to the day he said goodbye to his family, now fresh in his mind like the scab of a wound pried open.

A moment later Keith slunk inside, a dark figure flushed with amethyst. He watched from a distance as Lance unraveled the tow line. “Thanks for coming,” he offered. “I didn't know if my signal would get through. Or if. . .”

“You'd do the same for me.” Lance bit his tongue. “For us. Voltron, I mean.”

“I know,” he said, a bit of smile warming his voice. “It's good to see you, Lance.”

The paladin hoped his helmet was enough to hide the sudden heat in his cheeks. “Yeah. You too.” He pulled in a deep breath. “So what's with this place anyway? Why'd we get sucked into my head and not yours? Why _that_ memory?” Maybe he was rambling. Maybe he needed to, because Keith had drifted closer. Talking was an excellent diversion, although he wasn't exactly sure why he'd gotten so nervous. “Will it happen again? Is there anyway to control it?”

“I'm not sure,” Keith admitted. “Maybe because you miss them?” The silence stretched on, but perhaps it was just the effect of unstable space time. “It's hard. Missing someone,” he said finally, voice hushed.

“Yeah. It is.” Lance glanced at him from the corner of his eye, and sort of hated that marmorite mask for disguising the face underneath. Not that Keith was the most expressive person you'd ever meet, but his eyes would always betray him. He'd made Lance realize the ancient adage “windows of the soul” wasn't just some poetic musing.

A curiosity sprouted, of who exactly it was that Keith had been missing. Someone from Earth? From team Voltron? Maybe he'd meant Shiro. Before he could muster the courage to ask, a flash erupted in the distance with a crack like thunder.

Lance worked faster and tugged the cable toward the front of the ship. The loose line drifted from the lack of gravity, snaking behind him as his jetpack sputtered forward. “Don't worry, we'll beat it.”

“It's not a race, Lance.”

“Shut up and help me.”

Instead, Keith reached over and pressed the button to close the lion's jaw, causing it to snap shut just as Lance reached the entrance. The internal gravity and oxygen kicked in, and their feet touched down on the floor.

“What the heck? Open the door!”

Keith slipped his hood off, which cause the three eyed mask to morph to a shimmer and vanish. Lance got his wish. There were those eyes. His gaze was so steady, like _he_ was the one looking into souls, so Lance chose to avoid it altogether.

“You can't beat it, you know.”

“Watch me, mullet.” He wasn't keen on getting hit with something like that again, but he _especially_ didn't want Keith to rummage around in his head hole. He'd been glad when team Voltron put that training crap behind them. Especially when. . . Keith was pretty much the last person he wanted sifting through memories. Or feelings.

Keith stepped closer, enough to grip the cable. Knuckles brushed his own as a golden halo overcame the red glow of the cockpit, streaming through like a new day. “Why? You scared?” he asked, a dare in his eyes. Pale lips curled into a smile, which was a dumb thing to do when they were about to get tossed into a memory of Gorogory knows what.

It was terrifying. Still, Lance refused to let go, even if they were just shy of holding hands. Did the transfer have something to do with touch? Is that why he was so. . . so close? He'd said he saw the moment on Abuela's porch because Lance grabbed his hand. If that was true, then _why!?_ Did Keith _want_ to see into his memories? Had this place driven him actually insane? Maybe it was the Blade's fault.

The paladin finally found his voice. “I'm not scared.”

“Lance?”

He'd forgotten how captivating those violet eyes could be. The word _bewitching_ came to mind. It was such an overwhelming effect, he knew whatever Keith was about to ask, he'd readily obey.

“Breathe.”

White. Crimson. Lance hadn't so much switched scenery as locations. Now he sat in the pilot's seat, hands tethered to Red's controls. Stars blurred past. They were in open space. He breathed a sigh of relief. Even if Keith could see, it was just him and his lion, which meant nothing embarrassing could happen. He hoped.

The comms lit up. Not _so_ alone, it seemed.

“We cut through Lotor's fleet like butter,” Pidge gloated.

Still the past, then.

“What is butter?” Allura asked.

Hunk groaned. “Piiidge. Don't make me think about food.”

“You're always thinking about food,” she snapped back.

“Nice work, team.” _Keith_. Lance's heart rate inched faster, though he wasn't sure if it came from a past response or simply experiencing the now. Maybe it was both. “You really pulled through for us, Allura. I'm glad you were able to connect with your lion.”

“Thank you, Keith. I am thankful as well.”

The pang that began in Lance's stomach was certainly _not_ jealousy. More likely hunger. Yeah. Hunger for some buttered popcorn. It'd been a while since he'd had any, seeing as all of it was back on Earth. He pushed forward in his lion to pull ahead a bit. A hot breath came out and. . . yeah, he might have been a little jealous. When Lotor lured them to Thayserix with it's smog and electromagnetic storms, who'd been the one to keep the team together? Certainly not Keith.

Their leader's voice trickled through the comm. “And Lance?”

“Huh?”

“Thanks.”

Not a speech. Certainly not a parade. Still, it had Lance beaming. “Sure, buddy.” Best to play it cool, right? “Anytime.”

The chatter quickly returned to the topic of Allura and her strengthened bond with Blue. Slowly, that hollow feeling grew back. Like a balloon seeping empty, or a candle flickering out. Lance knew he was sulking when he began listing off metaphors.

His eyes trailed the chrome and swoop of Red's interior. Maybe the comparison was undue, seeing as each paladin and lion was different. Even Keith would readily admit he was still adjusting to the black lion. It just felt so. . . so lonely. Lance missed Blue. The fact that the red lion was so closed off didn't help either. She hadn't so much as spoken to him.

After a moment of consideration (read: pouting), Lance reached over to flick off the comms. He slowed just a bit to keep in a tight radius of the other lions. Just in case anything would happen, he wasn't entirely cut off. They were still a good hour from the Castle and now seemed as good a time as any to do some bonding.

“Hey, Red.”

Silence.

“It sure would be nice to hear from you.”

That was the hardest thing. The flying, the fighting? Sure it was different, but he'd get the hang of the new speed. It was rough missing Blue. She'd 'talked' to him all the time. He was sure it was comparable to being mentally linked with a puppy, actually. Not Red, though. Red may as well have been a corpse for all she said.

“I thought maybe since you chose me. . .” The newly red paladin glanced starboard side at the right leg of Voltron. “I guess I was just a last resort or something. You don't really want me as your paladin, do you?”

The whole interior seemed to brighten, and a purr of something like, _sure, if you say so,_ flitted against the boy's consciousness.

“So you _do_ speak!” Lance's grip on the controls tightened. “If you didn't want me, why'd you choose me? Why not take Coran instead?”

_Don't like his mustache._

Was his lion seriously messing with him? Maybe Keith trained it to torment Lance. Maybe Red would haunt him like a ghost til he dropped to his grave.

 _Don't doubt my judgment, little one,_ she hummed. _It was no mistake to take you in._

“Then what's with the silent treatment?” His voice grew uncertain. “Did I do something wrong?”

_Don't like secrets._

“I'm not keeping secrets from you,” he defended.

 _Sure._ Another rumble slithered under him through the interior of the ship, and Lance couldn't help wonder if she was up to something. _But there is a secret._

“Oh yeah, like what?”

_The head._

“What, you mean Keith?”

_The quiet one. You like him._

 

So much for bonding. Come to find Red had no problem talking when she wanted to. Lance decided it was in his best interest to turn his comm back on, just so no one would think he'd fallen asleep driving, er, flying. Besides, he wasn't sure he liked where this conversation was headed.

“Hey, Lance? You went quiet for a while. You okay?” Hunk asked.

_You like him. Just admit it._

“Pffffft.”

“Uh.” The yellow lion's head swiveled toward Red. “What was that? Lance?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lance mentally glared at his lion. “I'm fine.”

_He will be a strong leader. He values your support. As the right hand of Voltron–_

Lance kept his gaze straight ahead and refused to acknowledge her conspiratory remarks. Especially now that anything he admitted out loud would be heard by Voltron in its entirety.

_You could be a powerful team. Secrets are a wall between your bond with each other._

Only. Was it still a conspiracy if it were true?

_I KNEW IT._

All at once, Lance tipped sideways, and the change in velocity caused him to slam back against his seat. Red was taking off without him. Her pirouette quickly turned into doing laps around the others.

“Lance, what are you doing?” Pidge said, sounding less than enthused.

“I don't know, Red just started acting frisky.” He tugged at the controls, but there was no response. “She won't listen to me!”

Anyone could have felt the eyeroll that preceded Keith's question. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing!”

“You sure about that?”

The rogue lion didn't stop. In fact, she switched to spinning. Lance wasn't Hunk, but if Red kept this up, he was sure to barf. “What, are you our shrink? Leave us alone.”

“I'm just trying to help. I understand Red a little better than you.”

At this, she chuckled or purred, or maybe both.

“I said fly your own lion, Keith.” Lance twisted around in his chair, wishing for a convenient emergency brake. At this point, he'd settle for an eject button. Another tug at the controls told him Red had every intention of ignoring him forever.

Wait.

She'd said it herself. Red didn't like secrets. Maybe. . . maybe if he admitted another one she'd listen? At this point, he'd do anything. Because he didn't want to find out what Keith would do to him if he found out Lance had puked on his former lion.

 _Okay, okay,_ Lance thought, and hoped Red would at least listen. _I do have a secret. You were right. I do. . . I do like Keith. But. My secret is._ He bit his lip. Hard. _I'm too scared to tell him._ There. He'd admitted it. For all his flirting, he couldn't bring himself to look into those beautiful violet eyes and say the truth. Lance was nothing but a scaredy cat.

Red slowed instantly. Something like comfort came through their fresh bond with one another. _Don't fear, little one. I know you're brave enough._

Something buzzed in the back of his mind. At first he thought it was his lion, but it swelled to something unmanageable. Panic. Why? Because well, if Keith could hear Red now, there wouldn't be a secret anymore.

Light seared and left. Left Lance in the red lion's cockpit. His knuckles were sure to be bone under his suit. A hand, steadier than his own, still kept contact.

It was a delayed reaction, as senses still blurred and time seemed to move in a wobbly way. Lance leapt back, dropping the tow cable like it'd morphed into a serpent. His armor crashed against the side of Red's interior. Though his helmet cushioned most of the blow to his head, the impact rattled in his teeth. A blush bright enough to rival his lion's paint job swamped his skin.

There was that hand again, sending a jolt up his arm. “Lance, can you hear me?”

With fingers that trembled, he tore off his helmet and chucked it across the room. It felt like every fiber of reality was out to asphyxiate him.

“It's okay. It's over now. Just breathe.”

Lance opened his mouth to respond. To give an assuring “I'm fine”. Instead he found himself pulling out of Keith's reach. Instead, he found himself muttering an excuse, a cover. “That. . . that was a long time ago.”

But not _that_ long ago.

+

Lance had liked him. Not tolerated him. Not harbored vague fondness, or simply enjoyed their banter. _He'd cared about Keith._

Shock seemed too gentle a word.

Not that any of that had been his to see or to know. He deserved nothing better than to be the one caught in a time pocket, left to a frozen eternity while the universe corroded around him.

Or the worse punishment. To tell the _truth_.

Keith managed to make it through life with minimal attachment. Even to the point he wished he'd been closer to his dad while he was still alive. Of course he still had Shiro. But for the most part he kept everyone at a distance, just planets at a familiar orbit.

Lance was different.

These last months being apart was like drowning under a dark cloud. Living without Lance was like living without the sun. Everything gray, all of it cold. Maybe it was wrong to believe someone could be a light to another that way, but now that they were together he found it hard to think of Lance as anything less than his sun.

“You. I don't believe it.” Keith wondered if Red had failed to regulate their oxygen. Should it be this hard to breathe? “Lance I. . .”

Lance visibly swallowed. “Can we maybe, I dunno, forget that ever happened?” He crouched to recover the line, voice unwavering. “We've got a job to do.”

“Right.” Keith blinked, then tugged at his hood, because his mask was safety, was security. It contained the fear he felt creeping up his throat like ice. “If that's what you want.”

At this, he felt Red's gaze like daggers in the back of his head. She _really_ didn't like secrets.

They opened the hatch and ventured out into space again. It took a bit of creativity to retrieve Krolia. Neither dared get too close. So Keith stood with a loose hold on the cable at an angle, while Lance took the end. He snaked around the bubble and managed to circle it around her waist. Together they wound her in, though the going was slow. Any movement beyond the surface of the time pocket was sluggish, not unlike the contents of a snow globe or the debris suspended above their heads.

The moment she stumbled free, her eyes widened to terror. “Keith!” She caught her balance against the shale, and stilled as she identified her surroundings. “That. . . I thought you both _vanished.”_

“You got trapped in a pocket,” Keith said.

Lance dropped his end of the cable and offered a shrug. “We were just moving a little faster than you.”

At this, Krolia closed in on the paladin, eyes sharp, fully galra and full of storm. She even showed a flash of fangs. “You belong to this lion? What are you doing in the Quantum Abyss? Why have you come?”

“I. I came to get Keith.” He inched away from her, and ended up tripping backwards over the cable. “That's my lion. And yeah. She's actually really, really protective, so I would think carefully before–”

“I called him,” Keith said firmly. “Before the ship got sucked in, I sent Voltron a distress call.”

The general eased back. “You know Voltron so well?”

“Well, yeah,” Lance said. “He–”

“I would've told you.” Keith couldn't hold back the bitterness that leaked through his next words. Words that were an echo of her own. “We had more important things to deal with.”

“Now you know who I am.” Lance seemed to stand a bit straighter, failing to catch the strain between his two Galran companions. “I think it's time I found out who the heck _you_ are.”

Her eyes briefly flickered to Keith, but she remained silent.

“Lance. . . Uh. This is Krolia.” Keith swallowed. “She's my. My mom.”

“. . . YOUR WHAT?”

Her eyes had gone soft again, voice hushed. “Did I really say that?”

In response, Keith turned his back to them and headed into the lion. Because she _had._ And it'd hurt. So much.

Lance followed dumbly behind, and drew close enough to Keith to whisper. “Is this like, for real? I mean, how long?”

“It's a recent development,” he replied, voice low. Though Krolia was still very obviously in ear shot. “She's a spy for the Blade. Kolivan sent me in to extract her.” He tried not to falter. “I. . . He didn't tell me who she was.”

As they entered the lion's cockpit, Krolia brushed a curious hand over the frame. The paladin eyed her, like he silently wished someone would keep their hands to themselves.

“So, if you are the keeper of the red lion why do you wear blue?” she asked. “Is it a symbol of your people?”

Keith crossed his arms. “It's complicated.”

“Not that complicated.” Lance waved a hand. “In the beginning I piloted the blue lion, and Keith had Red. Someone else is piloting Blue now, and since Keith left. . .”

Krolia didn't turn from her inspection of the various instruments. She didn't react at all, really. “You were a paladin?”

So she was allowed questions, and he wasn't? If Keith hadn't already crossed his arms, he would have now. Instead his grip just tightened around his middle, as if it offered a form of protection. “Uh, yeah.”

“And you simply left?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

He wasn't sure why he was surprised when Lance opened his big mouth. A lapse of memory, obviously. “He did it to search for you.” All eyes turned to the paladin as he slung casually into the pilot's seat. Keith waited for him to go on, to explain a situation he so _obviously_ understood. “I mean, why else would he leave?”

“That. . . that's not true, Lance.” He'd never been more grateful for the mask. A security from the blue eyes that poured into him. That threatened to break in and free every shred of suppressed feelings he'd locked away.

“Of course you did.” His confidence faltered. “I mean, it's not like you told me. . . or anyone, for that matter. But c'mon.”

Secrets. Lots of secrets. Perhaps it was time for a truth to come out.

“I did it for you, idiot.”

Neither of them needed a flashback to recall the conversation they'd had after Shiro came back to them. Five lions. Just five. Lance, ever the hero, had offered to step down. For the good of the team. But Keith knew deep down the team needed Lance more than they could ever need him. Even if no one else could see it.

Keith couldn't have been a leader without him. Lance was there. Support when he couldn't stand on his own. Lance would sacrifice himself without a hesitation. He'd put pride down when it really mattered. No one could say he didn't give his all. He'd been trapped in space, his heart left on Earth, and he'd _fought._ Fought for something bigger than himself. Through the swagger, the insecurity, Lance had the biggest heart of them all.

And Keith. . . Keith could never be that for his friends.

“What do you mean?” His eyes. _So_ blue. “For me?”

Keith turned away. “It doesn't matter anymore.”

“ _That was a long time ago.”_

Krolia gave each of them a calculating look. “You are both the keeper of the red lion? Together?”

Lance seemed lost until his hand closed on the controls. “I guess it is complicated.”

“Well.” The general pressed forward to gaze out the windshield into the asteroid field around them. She tugged off her helmet, a head of thick indigo like ink falling to frame her face.“No matter who pilots, I'm thankful to have a ship again. The mission can go on, now.”

“The mission?” Lance asked. “You mean rescue. And I uh, sorta rescued you both already–”

“It's critically important that we find the source of enriched quintessence. We must go on.”

Keith ran a gloved hand over the panel. Familiar. Missed. Red had filled a crack he hadn't known he'd had until this lion bonded to him. “Maybe we shouldn't. We can't risk losing the lion in an environment like this.”

“Every moment we wait, is more quintessence harvested.”

“It would be better to discuss it with the Blade, too. Kolivan didn't approve this mission–”

“I'd still be shining my boots on an outpost in the middle of dead space if I waited for Kolivan to okay my every move. This is how we take down an Empire of tyranny. By stepping up.”

Lance looked back and forth between the two, the tension between them now more than an undercurrent. “Uh. Hey.” He did his best not to wither under their stares. “Look, this may not be the safest playground in the galaxy but Red can take it.”

“Lance,” Keith said thinly. “You don't have to.”

He didn't waver. “Your call.”

Keith could almost pretend he was back to piloting Black, heading the team up. Lance had looked to him for answers then, too. Had been ready to back him up. His fists clenched. “Alright.”

He let in. They went on.

Lance offered a solemn nod. “I'll contact the others to let them know I didn't wander off and fall into a black hole.”

He didn't have to wait long for the Castle to respond. A feed of Pidge and Hunk, nestled in the green lion's hangar, in front of a desk covered in space junk popped up. They both broke into grins, probably in a good mood from an experiment gone well.

“Lance! What's up?” Hunk asked, just as Pidge piped up.

“Did you find Keith?”

“Yeah, I've got him. Are the others back yet?”

“Nope.” Hunk shrugged, and fiddled with some gadget out of view. “Hey, I dunno you might even beat them. Maybe you won't have to tell Shiro about sneaking out–”

Keith turned sharply to look Lance. “You _what?”_

He waved a hand to dismiss the matter. “Technically there was no sneaking. I told Coran. . . that almost counts.”

“You'd have trouble explaining how Keith got on the Castle without anyone finding out,” Hunk went on.

“Fine, whatever,” Lance quipped. “I just wondered if they were back.”

Pidge gave him a smug look. “Worried about the Emperor prolonging the trip with a little nunvill and a slow dance under the stars?”

The yellow paladin pooched his lips out. “To _woo_ the Princess.”

She shook her head. “Poor Shiro. He's probably bored out of his mind.”

“Uh, guys?” Lance cut in. They'd seemed to block him out, fully occupied by their discussion of Lotor's love life.

“You think we'll get invited to the wedding?”

“Of course.” Pidge adjusted her glasses. “We'll be the god parents of their children. If Alteans have god parents, I guess.”

“Flowing white hair everywhere. It'll never stop. Think of all the brushing and combing and pulling and screaming. Oh boy.”

“They _would_ have gorgeous children–”

“GUYS.” Their friends held back snickers, obviously doing this to ruffle his feathers.

What was all this about Lotor and Allura anyway? Whatever it was, must have had Lance on edge. Or maybe he was sick and tired of the teasing his fellow paladins had no doubt subjected him to.

“I'm not coming back. Not right away. I was just calling to let you know.” He visibly shivered. “Not to listen to you two jabber about Lotor's future offspring!”

Pidge's smirk grew positively devious. “Hm. You two wanted more time to yourselves or what?”

“Just a mission for the Blade.” Though Lance didn't correct her in assuming they were alone. “That's all.”

“Mmhmm. Is that so.” She winked. “Having some nunvill and stargazing yourself, are we? You know that sappy crap people say about absence making the–”

“Shove off, Pidge.” With that, he ended the transmission.

“Those were paladins of voltron?” Krolia asked, with a masked concern.

“They were just being dumb,” Lance mumbled.

“They. . . they're so young.”

The two boys exchanged a knowing look. They _all_ were.

+

Lance curled his shoulders, as if he could dig himself deeper into the warmth of his heavy coat. Chill wind nipped at his exposed ears and nose. What he wouldn't give to feel the sun. Or _a_ sun. Seeing as they were on an alien planet. Criteria for a sun was a bit fuzzier out here.

Speaking of fuzzy. He gave another glance at the tall, fur covered beings ambling by. Allura explained the locals were called Inu, and boy were they better evolved for this cold. They didn't even need jackets, or vests, or scarves knit by their furry grandmothers.

Despite the low temperature and biting white all around, something warmed in his chest, like a buzz of butterfly wings, or the snap of embers. A hand, a very human one, brushed against his own. It wasn't for the first time either. In all fairness it was a busy street, and they needed to stay close so they wouldn't lose track of each other. They were basically the shortest beings around and getting lost in a sea of living carpet would be a terrible end to their mission.

He couldn't stop himself from taking a peek to his left. Snowflakes stood out against his companion's dark hair. Keith kept his head down and a frosty wisp trailed from his exhale. “We should be getting close.”

“Sooner we get there, the sooner we can get off this frozen rock,” Lance grumbled.

He was now willing to concede that the cold made him grumpier than he was generally inclined to be. Or maybe it was his nerves. Every muscle, every natural impulse screamed at him to grab the gloved hand next to his own.

He didn't.

While Red insisted secrets were a barrier between them, Lance had convinced himself to admit his feelings now would be worse than inviting Lotor to become a member of team Voltron. At best, it would be a distractraction, and Keith had enough on his shoulders learning how to lead them without figuring out a new relationship. At worst? Well. Lance tried hard not to think about it. But a nightmare of a team pulled apart at the seams made him stuff his hands deep into his pockets. He couldn't let that happen. Too much, heck, a _universe_ was at stake.

A block down they entered a crummy bar, which if you asked Lance, was a _terrible_ place for a secret meet up. He guessed Rolo and Nyma hadn't watched many old westerns. _Or_ Star Wars. Which was crazy, considering Rolo was basically Han Solo. Nyma was way too cute to be Chewbacca, though.

Worst of all, it was like standing in a giant freezer. In fact, it was _colder_ than the street. Lance's fists curled tighter into his coat pockets and he bit against chattering teeth. “Next time you stick me on a boring assignment, it better be nice and warm. Someplace tropical would be nice.”

“We didn't come here for a vacation, Lance.”

“A vacation might be good.” He dropped any trace of sarcasm from his tone. “I mean, you sure deserve one.”

Keith didn't respond, instead took in the room, mind very obviously on the mission instead of, you know, _anything_ else. So annoying. Lance wasn't sure if Keith even knew how to have fun anymore. When was the last time he smiled? It was a distressing thought.

The black paladin took a step toward the circular bar located in the middle of the place. “We should order something so we don't look suspicious.”

Lance gave the bar one look and pouted. “I don't do space drinks. Not after Coran's crazy nectar of the gods stunt. Besides, we didn't bring money. I don't even remember what they call currency here.”

A shaggy Inu on less than steady feet, and a good two feet taller than Lance bumped into him with enough force to send him stumbling. If not for Keith, he would've ended up on the floor. Luckily the native didn't seem to pay him much mind, though his heart still pounded at the thought of running into their own versions of Ponda Baba and Evazan. Not that he'd ever tell _Keith_ that, but–

Lance's face flushed when he realized Keith had taken hold of him by the arm to keep him on his feet. In fact, his grip tightened, and he forced Lance backward into one of the dimmer corners of the room. “Watch where you're going,” he said under his breath. “We don't want to attract attention.”

Coincidentally, Keith was attracting a lot of attention, even if it wasn't from any Inu. Lance couldn't help but notice the way his pale skin had bloomed the cutest shade of pink from the cold and the wind. Couldn't help taking in those eyes– stunning enough to put a galaxy of stars to shame. Those snowflakes still nesting in his hair. All bundled up in his black coat and red earmuffs.

Rare was the occasion Keith looked huggable, but it was an adorable look on him. And his face all scrunched in concentration. Determined to keep his focus on the mission. Lance swallowed back every smooth pick up line he'd ever uttered, knowing he wasn't brave enough to say one without stammering or simply collapsing into a motionless puddle.

Lucky his wit showed up to save him. “Seeing as we're probably the first humans and you're the shortest thing they've ever seen, I don't think that's possible.”

“Shut up.” Keith let go so they could both slide into empty seating. The table was a bit high, nearly reaching their shoulders, and even if Keith would never confess, his feet didn't quite reach the floor. “Forget the drinks. Just keep quiet.”

Keep quiet? Oh, Lance could do that. It would give him a chance to wonder why on Earth he assumed going on an assignment _alone_ with _Keith_ was a wise decision.

It wasn't long before two familiar faces came through the door. Nyma's lithe frame sidled up beside Lance, a little closer than he would have liked. “Hey there, flyboy.”

Lance looked away with a roll of his eyes, but seeing the rugged smile Rolo was aming at Keith wasn't much better, honestly. “Hey, Nyma. You get here without any trouble? I don't see Beezer.”

She shrugged. “This climate is tough on the little guy's processor, so he's keeping the ship toasty and ready for a quick takeoff.”

 _Quick takeoff?_ While Lance couldn't blame them for wanting to escape the snow, he didn't like the sound of that. She was smooth enough that he couldn't be sure, but the way her eyes kept roving to the door made him wonder if they _had_ run into some kind of trouble.

Rolo slung an arm across the back of their booth. “Hear you're piloting the black one now.”

Keith kept his eyes down. “It's just. . . temporary.”

Lance bit his tongue. These past couple months he'd felt personally obligated to fill the role of 'the guy who calls out all of Keith's crap' especially when he jumped into stuff heart first, or with a hot head, but crushing down Keith's hope that Shiro would come back, would still pilot the black lion was entirely different. While they'd searched and scraped the bottom of the barrel without a trace, Keith still clung to that hope. It kept him on, gave him drive. Honestly? Lance was just bracing himself for the day he let go. The day he gave up.

“Enough pleasantries.” Nyma crossed her willowy arms, and gave her partner a pointed look. One that made Lance wonder again if they had a reason not to linger.

“Right.” Rolo cleared his throat. “Here's the map, as promised.” He slipped a memory stick into Keith's gloved palm. One that contained Galra trade routes and locations of several refineries. Refineries that housed and purified quintessence. “Make sure you put it to good use.”

Keith slipped it directly into his coat. “You can count on us.”

The transaction lasted a few ticks, still long enough that none of their party noticed the three figures clad in white armor and armed enter the bar. They took strategic points throughout the room, sights on their mark. When they opened fire, it was pretty safe to say they all took notice.

Lance's instinct kicked in before he fully registered what was happening, and he threw himself in front of Keith, pulling them both under the table. It was tight quarters, but offered protection against the onslaught.

Nyma muttered a foreign curse, and shielded her head with her arms. “Those mutts sniffed us out.”

Blaster fire screamed in their ears. Inu shouted, tables turned, and footsteps roared in a flurry to reach safety. Frosted breath mingled in the space between the paladins, shoulders crammed together and heads ducked. Keith groaned and pressed a hand to his temple. In Lance's attempt to save his skin, he'd knocked his head against the edge of the table. “Is this heating things up enough for you?”

“I wasn't exactly wishing for a firefight.” Lance offered a sheepish smile. “You okay?”

Keith offered a softer look. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

His heart thrummed faster for a reason entirely different than being pinned down in a bar by mysterious snowtrooper guys. Even through the bulk of their coats, he felt the rise and fall of Keith's breathing, the hint of body heat. “Anytime.” Lance bit back an additional “buddy” because really, that hardly meshed with every other thought tangling in his head.

Keith gave a resolute nod. “You take the right, I'll take the left?”

He could _so_ get used to the feeling of Keith pressed against him. Could never tire of looking into the eyes smiling up at him. Lance had to physically restrain himself from leaning closer. From discovering what it might be like to kiss those lips, pale and numbed from the chill. “I'll watch your back, you watch mine.”

“Always.”

The memory drained away. Air returned to his lungs. His surroundings wrapped around him, the sounds of the firefight slowly dying to the dull of open space. The purr of Red's presence grounded him to where he sat in the pilot's seat.

Navigating the field had been intuitive, with his reflexes tied to his lion. Red progressively took more and more control as it seemed the pulses grew in frequency the closer they got to the gravity well. Lance took his hands off the controls entirely, head hammering from that last flashback.

His eyes tugged to his right, a flash of Keith and snow and brilliant violet still fresh in his mind, even if he now gazed into nothing but empty air. He twisted further to look behind the chair where his passengers had settled for sitting on the floor. Without thinking through something he felt should very much be thought through, he left his chair and went over to the former paladin.

Keith continued to stare into his luxite blade. _Totally_ sulking. Though Lance wasn't sure what he happened to be sulking about on this particular occasion. Known to one, the two boys settled into a position that mirrored Lance's latest memory. Blood rushed in his ears as he second guessed himself. He shouldn't have sat this close! What had he been thinking? Oh right, _he hadn't._ And now their shoulders very nearly touched. While Keith hadn't pushed Lance away, his posture went rigid, jaw clenched and grip tight on his dagger.

Keith finally looked up. “Are you doing okay?”

Lance drew his knees closer to himself and hated how high his voice climbed. “Yeah. Why?”

“With the. . . you know.” He gave his mom a brief look before he went on. “Seeing your family like this. I know you miss them.”

“Y-yeah.” His family. It was. . . sweet? Of him to say? That he'd think that? Not that he'd know most of Lance's memories featured Keith. If he'd known. . . Oh boy. “Uh, thanks. I'm alright, though.”

There was nothing to be done, short of ejecting Krolia out an airlock, but Lance still squirmed under her gaze as she watched the two interact with an open curiosity. He hesitated to go on. For some reason Keith didn't seem very comfortable talking about stuff in front of her. Well, she was practically a stranger. But this had nothing to do with her, right? Keith said it himself. It had nothing to do with her, and. . . everything to do with _him_ apparently.

“ _I did it for you, idiot.”_

“Keith?” He found himself holding his breath. “Why did you leave?”

“I needed space.” Keith pointedly shifted away.

Lance's stomach twisted, or maybe it was his heart, or maybe all his internal organs had begun a mutiny. He felt sick. He should never have sat this close! Shouldn't have tried to root through Keith's feelings. Just the words _Keith_ and _feelings_ in the same sentence should have been a clue to _run._

Despite all this, Lance latched onto something concrete. Something to keep him steadied. Because even if they'd been apart, he knew Keith well enough to know “I needed space” was a complete lie. They both knew it.

“We needed you.”

Keith avoided his gaze. “No. You didn't.”

Lance didn't give an Unilu's fourth arm if Krolia heard them anymore. So what if this was messy? So what if it turned into a battle? Since when was he _not_ ready to fight Keith? “Shut up! You know that's not true.”

“They didn't need me anymore,” he maintained.

“So you just left?” Lance was swinging his arms now in a wild gesture. “Moved on? Packed all seven of your belongings and ran?”

Keith's eyes flared with something dark, because wars were never beautiful, but boy was he ever beautiful. “They needed _you_ , Lance. More than they needed me.”

Blue eyes blinked, then blinked again. Were his limbs supposed to feel numb? Shock, he guessed. It was the only thing that kept him from busting out laughing. Even if. . . Keith looked pretty serious. It wasn't a joke. He'd meant what he said.

Silence stretched. A voice finally broke them away from their glare off. “Should I give you two a moment?”

Lance stubbornly folded his arms. “No, of course not. No moments needed here.”

And _then_ , more shocking than this revelation, this stupid idea that Voltron needed him more than Keith, _who had flown the black lion_ , Keith opened his mouth. “Give us five minutes.”

Krolia offered a nod, and without another word headed toward the opposite end of the lion. They were still within shouting distance, but that left them largely alone.

“Lance.”

“Shut up.”

He let out a ragged breath. “Lance, just. Listen?” When he didn't answer, Keith went on. “I did it for the good of the team. And the Blade has been really good for me. And. . . I found my mom. My _mom_ , Lance.” Keith lay his dagger flat against the floor between them, fingers still curled against the gleaming luxite. “I'm sorry if that's not good enough for you.”

“That's. . .” Lance gripped fiercely at his arms, hugging himself tight as if he could keep those secrets caged up. “I just. We haven't heard from you in months, and I didn't know if you were. . . I mean, I tried to convince myself you were okay, but I couldn't and– and I.” He clutched desperately to the plain of his armor, and gathered his courage. Because he is a _paladin_ of _Voltron._ A ghost of assurance from Red nudged him, and gave him just enough strength to go on. “I want you to come back.”

After this mission they could go another five months without seeing each other. Maybe longer. Maybe never. Lance knew enough to know being a Blade was dangerous. Much more dangerous than riding shotgun in a magic lion. The very idea that Keith could. . . it drove him utterly to the end of himself.

“Please. Come back, Keith.”

Keith blinked, face void of any whisper of emotion. Lance supposed it was the marmorite's turn to be shocked. It did little to calm his nerves. Lance may as well have declared his feelings for how telling the brokenness and need in his voice was. Because at this point it seemed he was willing to beg.

“Lance, I–” His voice came out strangled, frustrated. “I can't. Not yet. Not now.”

He wasn't sure how, but he felt the truth to Keith's words. He understood. That this was how it had to be. For now.

“Just. Promise you won't forget. . .” Lance bit his tongue hard enough to taste salt and iron. _Promise you won't forget me._

“I could never forget you, Lance.”

In the distance, another rumble began, another pulse broke along the horizon. Lance's eyes blew wide. He barely had enough time to move from confused to stunned before he realized that Keith was drifting closer, and from that crazy impulsive look in his eyes it didn't seem he planned to stop. And if they were touching when– he startled at the brush of Keith's fingers against his arm.

“W-what are. . .” He didn't have enough air in his lungs to speak up.

“Lance.” Keith was only satisfied when their foreheads pressed firmly together. The golden light grew brighter, and Lance saw every jeweled fleck in his eyes ignite. “I've always remembered you.”

+

A freshly warm and golden french fry flew across the table and smacked Keith in the face. He flinched, not unlike a cat, and his eyes fluttered over to the source of the projectile.

“. . . even still on Earth?” His classmate Chris swirled another fry into the red sauce on his tray, then popped it in his mouth. He had no difficulty chewing and speaking simultaneously. “You were floating away, dude.”

Keith forced his attention the foreign fry that now rested in his casserole. The food remained otherwise untouched, his appetite long fled. To be frank, his lunch seemed about as appetizing as the cafeteria floor, and cadets still whispered stories of the last kid who'd licked it as a dare. Needless to say their actions resulted in more than a belly ache.

“Is everything OK?” Chris probed.

Very much without his consent, Keith's gaze slid again to the group of cadet trainees a couple tables away. To a boy whose laugh carried through the thrum and chatter, a sound bright enough to wake butterflies in his stomach. The trainee wore the orange and white, but his jacket was left unbuttoned to reveal a blue tank with a little surfer and sun graphic underneath. From the looks of his darkened skin and sandy hair, it was more than arbitrary. It was a clue.

His friend squinted through unkempt blond hair. “Earth. To. Keith.” Chris punctuated each word with a wave of another fry in his face, as if to bring him out of a coma. “You know that guy or something?”

“W-what?”

“Beach babe. You're kinda staring at him.”

“Am _not.”_

“Sooo. If you don't know him, you won't have any reason to object.”

Internal warning bells went off, but Keith refused to back down. Since their freshman year, the two had pulled more stunts together than they could count, and they came out the other side. Sans a few detentions and broken bones. This time couldn't be any different, right? “What'd you have in mind?”

Chris pushed his tray aside, fries now forgotten. “Dare you to steal his student ID.” There was a long pause, as if waiting for Keith to react. Keith decided not to. Finally, he made a shooing motion. “Go on.”

Keith crossed his arms over the front of his uniform. “Alone?”

“Try it.” He reached across the table to swipe a bite of casserole from Keith's tray. “If I see you floundering I might jump in and help you. But you got this. Totally.” He offered a thumbs up, before diving back into Keith's lunch.

Violet eyes flickered to the boy in question. The group around him broke into a gale of laughter, something he'd said obviously funny. Keith swore that sunny smile was a direct assault on his sanity. “I dunno.”

“What, scared?”

Keith hadn't hesitated to jump off the roof of the Garrison with a gravity boot prototype they stole from the lab. Hadn't thought twice about pranking Iverson, regardless of consequences. But this? This could only end in disaster.

Brain on autopilot (or very obviously brainwashed), Keith slid out his chair and found his feet carrying him over to the group of trainees. He dodged a pair of instructors on lunch break. Sure. He could do this. So long as he kept his mind on the game. The Mission. The dare. Whatever. He wasn't scared.

Nah. He wasn't scared. He was a _wreck._

Any and all shred of confidence jettisoned when the group started a game of catch with a can of something carbonated. The boy with the surf shirt and a few others got out of their chairs, rowdy and raising noise loud enough to turn heads. Keith gripped at the hem of his uniform's sleeves and his stomach turned. Something kept him glued there, something kept him from moving out the way, as “beach babe” (as Chris dubbed him) ran to catch the soda, and backed straight into a very stunned Keith.

“OOF.”

He swore this was what it felt like to have your heart stop. “S-sorry.”

“Hey, don't worry about it,” the guy said. _So_ casual. This was really bad. And he was turning around, and Keith had to tilt his head back to see. Cute a _nd_ tall? “It's my fault. I should have watched where I was going.”

“Alright, Lance, give me my drink back,” one of the trainees called.

The boy, Lance, just grinned. A smile that made Keith's heart sink through his stomach all the way to weak knees. They were so close he forgot how to breathe. Something wild and mischievous sparkled in those blue eyes.

_Abort._

_Now._

So blue, it was like Keith was seeing the color for the first time.

“You want it back?” Lance asked.

Before Keith knew what was going on, really it caught everyone involved off guard, Lance whirled around and cracked open the soda. Fizzy green drink shot out, well aimed at his fellow trainees.

“LANCE.”

“What the heck!?”

Still smiling, Lance tossed the now empty can to the other boy. “Here. You want it, you can have it.”

“That's _not_ what I–”

“Lance.” A girl pinned him with a fiery look. “You stained my new uniform.”

Lance gave her a wink in return, which made Keith's heart sink for an entirely different reason. “You still look great, babe.” He tugged at the front of his own jacket, where the green had spattered across the otherwise crisp white. “Hey, you know where the laundry room is?”

It took a full two seconds for Keith to realize he'd directed the question at him, and not one of the trainees. “L-laundry?”

“Yeah. Can't have a messy uniform on the first day.” The corner of Lance's mouth curved, eyebrow quirked just so. “First impressions are important, y'know?”

“I, uh.” Keith blinked at the spot on the boy's uniform, and as his eyes pulled up he noticed the absence of a lanyard or ID. “First impression?”

Cadets around them giggled which definitely contributed to the flush that crept up his neck when he caught sight of the black lanyard swinging from Lance's back pocket. How. . . convenient. Keith was too embarrassed and definitely awkward enough to stand dumbly as Lance removed his uniform coat and slung it into Keith's dumb, perfectly compliant arms. To blush further at the sight of lean, tan arms.

 _What the heck? Freckles? On his shoulders?_ Keith was all but ready to eat the stupid jacket.

“Think you can help a guy out?”

Lucky for Keith, there was still a part of his brain functioning well enough to remind him he'd come this far for a reason. He still had a mission. “I uh, could take your pants too.”

If he could have disappeared, he wouldn't have reappeared for a good millennia. He was _ruined._ He'd never graduate. Never be able to show his face or even freaking breathe.

Why couldn't he breathe?

Light enveloped them, the cafeteria and cadets blown away like moondust. Keith had just enough awareness to take in the sight. And if any denied Lance looking perfectly angelic in such gold and white and soft glow, Keith would have denied their sanity. Then again, who was he to judge one's saneness when he was so mad and deep and beyond recovery himself?

Even as the memory retreated, the boys didn't. The white turned to a dimness and crimson cast shadows. They remained, foreheads flush together. Breaths came short as they recovered, and Keith found that everything from his head to his toes had gone fuzzy. Keith forced himself to look, to meet blue eyes, pupils dialed up. Their closeness became infinitely more intimate. Still, neither made an effort to pull back.

“That was a long time ago.” Keith's fingertips left the hilt of his dagger and trailed until they met long, lithe fingers. He couldn't bring himself to take it just yet, but allowed the back of his hand to rest there, knuckles grooved into a comfortable place. “That was a long time ago, and we've been through a lot together since then.”

The paladin eased away, and took one more ragged inhale. “Yeah. We have.”

Keith chased him. “Lance.” He wanted more. To touch. To feel. To tell him. But Keith had never been good with words. “Lance, I. . .”

“It's okay,” he said softly.

“I just. You said you don't feel it anymore.” His gaze dropped, and he felt as infinitely shy as he had the day they met. “I don't. I'm not ready to screw up our friendship. After everything.”

“I never said I didn't feel that way anymore.”

Keith's throat tightened, and he had to force the words out. “You implied it.”

“You implied you didn't remember me from the Garrison, and we both know what that meant.” The corners of Lance's mouth quirked, and Keith's eyes caught on the familiar motion, on perfect, brown lips. “Keith,” he whispered. “Are you. . . implying you want to kiss me?”

Keith's face flamed at the words now hanging in the air like static. “Tell me you don't feel this way. I'll stop, I swear.” His blood was like rocket fuel, ready to ignite. Violet eyes closed painfully shut at the twist in his heart, afraid of what would happen, whatever happened. He couldn't lose Lance. “Tell me to stop.”

“Shut up and trust me, Keith.”

The paladin surged forward. He startled at the touch, the presence of heat against his mouth, still clamped shut. Lance's lips were even softer than he imagined they'd be. And gentle, too. Or restrained? Like he expected Keith to bolt any tick. His eyes fluttered momentarily, just to make sure it was really Lance, and not someone else. That this wasn't another vision. Not that this was like any kiss he'd experienced before. He was pretty sure this wasn't something he'd ever forget.

Lips dragged across his own, and pulled an involuntary whine from the back of his throat. This left a rift for Lance to break through, to probe deeper. His hands bunched in the fabric of Keith's hood to tug him closer. Keith pushed back, tongues meeting each other.

It made Lance shudder, and exhale. _“Keith.”_

Where there had been nothing but sweet and soft now sparked heat. Keith moved with a hunger, hardly believing that after all this time, this could be real. There wasn't much sensation to be felt through their armored suits, so his hands found their way to Lance's jaw, to cling to what little skin was exposed.

Lance retreated, and lifted a hand, gloved fingers catching at dark fringe mussed from his marmora mask. “I'd say that was a pretty big implication, wouldn't you?”

Keith took a ragged breath. “Lance, I. . .”

“You don't have to say it. Not until you're ready.” Eyes. _So_ blue. Blue with sincerity. Keith knew his head was spinning, because that made less sense than Coran running on three hours of sleep.

Neither could be sure how much of their five minutes remained. Maybe it'd passed a long time ago. In a place like this, maybe it didn't matter. Keith knew what he had to do.

He stretched forward until the space between them was a whisper. “Lance? I've liked you. For a quiznakking long time. I'm not afraid to say it anymore.” He closed the gap, like a handshake to seal a deal, only this was less like gaining in a business venture and more like giving away his heart with a kiss.

Their sense of self blurred, bodies tangled, lost in each other. They were so wrapped up, they hardly noticed the golden wave approaching. It swept them up and carried them away.

Through some strange sense, Keith understood they were on Earth. On a beach. Their bodies stretched over a towel, cradled in sand. Frames curled together, limbs twined and Lance's arms wrapped securely around him. It took a moment longer for Keith to register his own arms held tight around Lance's waist. The sun, _their_ sun, beat down on them with a warmth, a laziness that brought comfort. Neither spoke, only content to rest in the other. Their noses pressed close, ivory and sunkissed skin meeting.

It was an intimacy Keith had never experienced with anyone before. But he couldn't bring himself to turn away. To run. To be afraid. Because this was _Lance,_ and Keith didn't need to be afraid. There was nothing to hide now. This was the end of secrets.

Lance's tan skin cracked in a smile. “What is it? You're looking at me funny.”

He could only lay there, too awed to speak. Because. . . this had to be the future. _Their_ future.

“Keith?”

“I just. . . I'm really happy.”

“Mmm.” Lance snuggled closer, their bare chests a startling difference from the armor that'd separated them moments ago, and it sort of made Keith dizzy. “Me too.”

Unknowingly, both boys try to grasp the picture like a portrait by its corners, to hold onto the memory longer, but it flickered away.

The feeling of safe and known ripped right out along with the air from their lungs, and they were left with a very unsure present.

“That was Earth,” Lance says, stunned. “That was _Earth_.”

“I. . . I think so.”

“What about the marmorites?” His grip tightened on Keith's shoulders. “What about Voltron? What about Lotor and–”

“I don't know, Lance. None of that's going to go away anytime soon. I know we both have so much responsibility and this is just another thing to balance, to figure out, and it's confusing, I get it. I'm scared too.” He paused to catch his breath. “But. Maybe just for a moment we can forget all that. _All_ of it.” His fingers slid into Lance's, and it sent a shiver up his spine because of how right it felt, premonitions aside. “Can we do that?”

“For the record,” Lance murmured, “I think that's the most words I've _ever_ heard you say at once.” His smile softened with something Keith could only label as fond. More than fond. Was it. . . did he dare call it love, even silently, to himself? “But.” The paladin, the boy Keith has, and does, and will love, presses a single kiss to his soft flushed cheek. “It's a deal. This will be our time to forget.”

 


End file.
